


Love in Defiance

by pherryt



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Angst, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Low Self Esteem, M/M, MTH fill, Minor Violence, Multi, Mutual Pining, Past Minor Character Deaths, Rescue Mission, Soulmates, Soulmates With A Twist, Steampunk, all knowing nat, alternating pov, blowjob, but mostly Bucky's, kidnapped!steve, lucky and alpine as horses, past trauma, self sacrificing!clint, small bit of smut, vaguely set as a western (but that goes hand in hand with Steampunk right?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24975928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Bucky's life plan had been to go to the University out East, become a teacher and find his soulmate, but he only managed one of those things before his life went to hell. It was only by chance that a couple of vigilantes found him, rescued him and brought him back home.In the years since, him and Clint Barton have had a thing. It's good and Bucky's happy, even if he wishes Clint was around more often.Then everything changes again, and Bucky's left scrambling to find a way to put it right, cause there's no way - soulmate or no - that he's letting Clint walk out of his life for good.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Winterhawk, minor tony/sam/steve, past laura/clint
Comments: 30
Kudos: 105
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2019





	Love in Defiance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weepingnaiad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/gifts).



> WeepingNaiad was one of my MTH winners and found this post for me to use as inspiration (which original Poster (Krowwithabrush) gave me permission to use for said purpose)[ Original Moodboard Post on Tumblr](https://krowwithabrush.tumblr.com/post/157579027272/steampunk-winterhawk-open-to-requests-stony)
> 
> I hit a snag a few times but i think I finally ironed out the kinks. Starts off a little smutty but its really not that kind of story... lol - Despite the difficulties I had, I really enjoyed writing this! Thank you for the opportunity, Weepingnaiad, and I hope it's suitably steampunked up enough?

**BUCKY**

Bucky groaned when Clint slammed him against the wall, the groan swallowed down by Clint’s lips.

“This… this isn’t the time or the place, Clint,” he gasped out as their hips drove together and Clint’s mouth moved along his jaw, the flimsy, silk cloth around Bucky’s neck fluttering to the floor.

“You’re just as desperate for this as I am,” Clint murmured against Bucky’s throat. “Gods, I wanna get my mouth on ya.” Bucky groaned again as Clint’s fingers fumbled with his breeches and his teeth scraped on Bucky’s skin, a soft flutter – an odd feeling, recurring more and more often lately during these encounters – mixing with the hot need flowing through Bucky’s veins.

His cock sprang free as Clint finally succeeded, and then Clint’s glove clothed hand closed about him and slid up and down roughly a few times, causing Bucky to whine and jerk in his grasp. “Clint – “ he warned.

“Wanna taste ya,” Clint whispered, dragging his mouth up to suck on the lobe of Bucky’s ear.

“You are –“ Bucky protested, his brain struggling to form words with the fire Clint lit inside him.

Clint dropped to his knees and smirked, licking up the underside of Bucky’s cock and tonguing lightly at the tip, then taking _just_ the tip into his mouth and sucking teasingly. Bucky whined again, banging his head against the wall with a loud gasp.

“Quiet, Barnes,” Clint warned, then took him all into his mouth in one go. Bucky jerked, one hand coming down to rest against the back of Barton’s neck, not pushing or pulling but holding on desperately, the _other_ coming up against his mouth, his lips wrapping around the side of his unyielding hand, muffling the cry he couldn’t hold back.

It was almost always like this, between them. Hot and heavy and hard. How it had started, Bucky couldn’t quite remember, but if he were honest, he’d probably fallen for the rogue the day he’d rescued Bucky from HYDRA.

Clint’s tongue swirled around the head of his cock, expertly taking Bucky apart, the dual sensation of flesh and leather around him driving him mad. Not for the first time, Bucky wished there was more to this, that Barton – that _Clint_ ever took off those damnable gloves…

But Clint wasn’t looking for a soulmate and Bucky didn’t even know where to start looking for his anymore. This, what they had, that was good enough for him.

(No, it wasn’t. He wanted more, and he wanted it with Clint, gods help him).

Clint swallowed around Bucky and he came suddenly, a flood of heat rushing through him, fingers flexing convulsively in Clint’s hair. He bit down on the gloved metal of his own hand but it didn’t do as much to muffle his cry as he’d hoped. Clint surged up the length of Bucky’s body and captured his panting moans, pressing him flat against the wall. He licked and nipped Bucky’s lips hungrily, and Bucky’s eyes rolled to taste himself on Clint’s tongue, to feel Clint’s own hardness rubbing against his leg. Bucky’s hands slid down to Clint’s ass and gripped, rocking against him, urging him toward completion.

“That’s it, Barton, c’mon,” he whispered between increasingly needy and sloppy kisses.

“Fuck,” Clint shuddered against Bucky, tucking his head into the junction of Bucky’s neck and shoulder. “Futzin’ fuck!”

Clint stiffened, biting down on Bucky’s shoulder through 3 layers of cloth, his groan vibrating against Bucky’s neck.

Bucky’s hands released their grip on Clint’s ass, sliding up to the small of his back where he rubbed soothingly while Clint slumped against him. It was a few, long moments before Clint sighed and pulled away with a grimace.

“Dammit, my pants are a fuckin’ mess,” he grumbled.

“Now, who’s fault is that, sweetheart?” Bucky retorted, tucking himself back in and fixing his own clothes. “I told you this wasn’t the time or place.”

It was true. Behind the theater on the way home where anyone could discover them? But Clint had been strangely desperate and it never took long to persuade Bucky that kissing Clint was a good idea.

And, well, things always progressed from there, not that Bucky was really against it.

He was so gone on Clint.

"I don't think we should be doing this anymore," Clint said as they straightened their clothes. Bucky’s blood turned to ice.

"What?" His voice cracked as it came out. Clint wouldn't look at him. 

"I get it, it was nice while it lasted and I'm a pretty sure thing, anytime you flash those baby blues at me, you know I'm a goner, but I'm holding you back."

"Excuse me?" Bucky said with a little more strength.

"You, your life. You can't keep waiting on me to breeze through town. You need to move on and if we keep doing this, you never will." 

"I think I can decide when to move on," Bucky almost growled. “Or if I even want to.”

Clint shook his head. "We're not even soulmates, Bucky."

Bucky went pale, Clint’s words like a slap to his face. He took a breath tried to keep his voice even as he talked, brain scrambling for a foothold.

"So what? I didn't think that mattered to you," he said, thinking of the silver scar on Clint’s hip. He'd had and lost his soulmate already. Was he saying Bucky couldn't measure up? He flexed the fingers of his left hand, heard the soft clicks and whirs and of course, of _course_ he couldn’t measure up. Clint’s soulmate had probably been whole, not broken like Bucky.

But he’d seemed to enjoy Bucky’s company. Bucky had even thought Clint just might care, a little, even if it was just a fraction of what Bucky felt for Clint.

Clint looked up and while his face was schooled, his eyes… they hit Bucky like a punch in the gut, air pulling out of him as he stared into Clint’s sad, haunted eyes.

"Yeah, well it does." Clint’s voice was rough, and Bucky didn’t know if it was from emotion, or from Bucky’s cock.

Did it matter? Because this was it, the moment he’d been afraid of for so long.

He swallowed.

It had been bound to happen sooner or later, though Bucky had certainly hoped for never, but he wasn't ready. If he'd known this was the last time they'd even be together, he'd have made sure to make it something special; A memory for him to treasure or – even better - do something so good that maybe he could change Clint’s mind 

"When do you leave?" He asked, thinking quickly. "I'm not ready to let go of you just yet. You took me by surprise. If… if this is over then… I, at least, want a proper goodbye."

Conflicted relief crossed Clint’s face. "One last hurrah? I think I can do that. Whatever you want."

"Anything I want?"

"Sure." Clint said softly, an echo of sadness flitting over his face.

For a brief second, anger flashed through Bucky. Why was _Clint_ sad? This was Clint’s idea in the first place, to end things between them.

But then the anger washed away again, to be replaced by a tentative hope. If there were real enough feelings from Clint to elicit that response, then there had to be a way to salvage this, right?

* * *

“Tonight,” Steve said over breakfast, apropos of nothing. Bucky stared and wondered if he'd dropped the thread on yet another conversation. He’d been doing that a lot, ever since he got back from…

Bucky swallowed the food that had turned into a cold lump in his throat. He’d thought he was getting better. But what Clint had said last night, it had thrown him. “Tonight what?”

“Think I'm gonna do it tonight. With Tony.”

“With Tony? Are you sure? I thought you were sweet on the schoolteacher, or that doctor, Sam?”

Steve blushed. “All of them are great, Buck, and we _do_ share marks, but I think Tony's it,” Steve said dreamily and Bucky knew he was gone. “Besides, Peggy’s gone and found someone else.”

“But, Sam? I thought you two were stepping out quite a lot, lately. I really thought he’d be it for you. Didn’t you two attend the ice cream social together?”

Steve’s face went blank for a second before he pushed a smile over it. Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “He didn’t seem to think so,” Steve said cryptically and Bucky was confused.

Last he’d heard, Steve and Sam had been getting on just fine. As fine as Steve and Tony were, in fact. Steve’s last lament had been all about how he was expected to _choose_ when he had come to care for both of them so much. Bucky had almost envied him that choice, as it was more than he was likely to ever have. It was with considerable will that his hand didn’t come up to cover his replacement arm.

Still… _Tony?_ Bucky shook his head. “Tony's so... I never thought he'd be compatible with _any_ one,” Bucky admitted. Not that he didn’t _like_ Tony, but the genius was… a little abrasive at times. Definitely impulsive, and both things meant that he and Steve had gotten into it more than once over the strangest things.

“Oh, he's got a few besides me,” Steve said, shrugging as if absolutely unconcerned. Bucky’s eyes were bugging. “But neither Pepper nor Rhodey quite feel that way about him.”

“You've... already talked with his other potentials?” Bucky asked, flabbergasted. Only _Steve_ was old fashioned enough to ask his intended’s other potential soulmates for permission first.

It also meant that, despite his words, despite the _I think_ , Steve was dead serious about this. And if he was that gone on Tony Stark, then Bucky could do nothing else but support him. It wasn’t that Tony was a bad guy, anyway. Without Tony’s help, Bucky wouldn’t even have two arms! It was just that… maybe he was a little bit jealous.

During his captivity, Bucky had lost a lot.

Including every potential soulmate mark he’d once carried. With his left arm gone, and so much of his body covered in scars… well, that was that.

Everyone had multiple potential soulmates; Black Markings on their skin that flashed when fingertips touched, a glow that could even be seen through most clothes. The markings would only change permanently to gold when activated or finalized. In the end, choice _was_ involved - finalizing the bond required intent and true feeling on both sides.

And Bucky? He’d had a few marks before the raid on the train, the trip that had changed his life forever, but he hadn’t yet met any of his potentials, had never seen a single soul whose mark matched one of his and now he never would.

Can’t match what you can’t see. If he were ever going to find love, Bucky was going to be fumbling blindly in the process. Not that he thought that was possible anymore. Love. Love was for people who hadn’t been scarred – both physically and mentally.

Steve finding love with Tony was… it was good, Bucky was happy for him but…

But it left Bucky out in the cold. Especially after Clint’s announcement the night prior. Bucky had thought himself well on the way towards love when Clint had pulled the rug out from under him.

Yeah, he was definitely jealous. He just hoped Steve couldn’t tell. It wouldn’t be fair to rain on his and Tony’s happiness, because there was no doubt in Bucky’s mind that Tony would agree to Steve’s proposal.

The rest of breakfast went quietly enough, Steve too distracted by his plans and Bucky too miserable to want to talk anyway. Afterwards, Bucky left the house he shared with Steve, pushing on towards the library.

He’d gone out East to make something of himself, going to University, studying the greats of Literature, History, Philosophy and more. He’d done well there, a credit to his family’s sacrifices - they’d scrimped and saved to afford his tuition, and he’d intended to pay it back in kind so ‘Becca could go after him.

He’d done so well that afterwards he could have taught – had even been offered his own position at the very university he’d attended – but that was when everything had changed.

In the blink of an eye, his life path had gone from certain to chaos. A trip home after his graduation had netted him only pain and loss and trauma.

He’d been missing for over two years before Clint Barton had stumbled across Bucky by accident on a mission of his own. Bucky had never learned what that mission was, but he’d been damn grateful for the rescue. He might have fallen a little in love with Clint that day, just for being Bucky’s own, personal hero, and it might have eventually faded, but every minute they’d spent together since, no matter how brief, had only reinforced the feeling, only made Bucky fall in love with Clint for his own quirks and his good heart.

Clint Barton and his partner – Natasha Romanova – had returned a broken Bucky to his own town. It had taken a long month of riding to get back, and Bucky had been so different that it was a shock to ride into town and find it hadn’t changed much at all. And yet nothing was ever going to be the same. It was Bucky who had changed, who had been altered, too much to resume his life as if nothing had happened.

He hadn’t been able to bear his families’ sympathy, their crushing concern, the wary looks.

Steve had rescued him from that, rescued him from drowning in all the good intentions that pushed him further into himself with each word and action. Bucky had pulled away from his well-meaning family, moved in with Steve and had been content to just exist for a while.

Left to his own devices, with Clint occasionally stopping by to check in on him whenever he happened to be in town, Bucky slowly healed, slowly started opening up again and leaving the house.

Things had been helped along by Tony’s contribution – the artificial arm that now adorned Bucky’s left side, made with steel and gears and wood. There was no fine finger dexterity, so it was a good thing Bucky had never been left-handed, but he could, at least, grip things when needed, had strength behind that grip. That was definitely something to thank Tony for; he’d never seen an artificial arm with articulated fingers before and – if Tony had his way – Bucky would _get_ that fine delicate control and touch back eventually.

Bucky didn’t know how far Tony was from _that_ breakthrough, but in the meantime, having something that even partially was able to mimic real movement helped, and it stopped people from staring at him in pity. Eventually, the town seemed to forget Bucky’s misadventure, labeled him simply as odd and let him be.

‘Becca had gone off to University herself, and their mother had followed after the death of their father – occurring just before Bucky had come home, yet one more thing HYDRA had taken from him - returning to live with family back East. She sold the little house Bucky had grown up in to the new schoolteacher that he’d been so sure would catch Steve’s eye, packed her bags and got on the train, refusing every escort, the money from the sale paying much of ‘Becca’s tuition.

Bucky had been a wreck until letters had arrived from both sister and mother to assure him they’d safely reached their destinations and were settling in.

Five years later, and Bucky was as settled in as _he_ was likely to get. No soulmate prospects, no high falutin’, good paying job. Just living with Steve, helping at the library and occasionally trying his hand at writing.

And fucking Clint Barton anytime he was in town. Except… apparently not, not anymore. His steps hitched and he pushed on.

It wasn’t the life Bucky would have ever imagined for himself, but here he was and – until last night – he would have said he was mostly content. But the idea of never seeing Clint again, or worse – seeing but not being anything to each other anymore – had Bucky facing the future with dread.

He needed to figure out a way to convince Clint he was wrong.

He arrived on the steps of the library, pondering just what he could do to accomplish that, when a commotion caught his eye and he froze – because he recognized the man at the center of it. The man that had ridden into town with an entourage, each of them armed to the teeth and glaring at all and sundry.

Bucky whisked himself around the corner of the building, slammed his back into the wall and took a few deep breaths.

That was Pierce. The one that had gotten away. The one that had been behind Bucky’s capture for god knew what earthly reason. The one that hadn’t been there when Clint and Nat had raided the base and found Bucky.

He was here.

In town.

No. He wouldn’t be that brazen, would he? Everyone was looking for Pierce. He was notorious. Surely Bucky had been mistaken? It had been 5 years, after all, since his rescue. Memories had a way of distorting over time and it wasn’t like he’d had ever had a clear head whenever Pierce had been around.

It had to be a case of mistaken identity.

That’s all it could be.

Despite his assurances to himself, Bucky was too rattled to continue on to his work at the library. After a last, wary look, he’d slipped away behind the library, along the backstreets – not that there were many in a town as small as this – and took himself off in search of Steve.

Steve was Sherriff here, something Bucky had never expected when he’d at last come home, but he was good at it, now that he’d grown into his fighting spirit and his sense of justice. He kept the peace well, and their town prospered. It helped that the mayor was levelheaded and not corrupt, a rarity as far as Bucky could tell.

The Sherriff’s station was empty. Well, not _empty_. The Deputy was there. A new guy, name of Rumlow, that set Bucky’s teeth on edge. He couldn’t place him, but Bucky had the sinking suspicion he’d met the guy before. After poking his head in and making polite chit chat (because Bucky wasn’t there to cause Steve problems) with Rumlow to discover Steve’s whereabouts, Bucky left the station and cautiously made his way to where Tony lived.

Tony was an inventor, which was sometimes a dangerous thing to be around. For that reason, his house and workshop were located as far from the town as he could be and still remain in sight of it. When Bucky was having a _good_ day, he loved to go to Tony’s and see what mad designs the inventor had come up with. Sometimes, he even helped Tony with his note taking.

He knocked on the front door, ears straining for the sound of explosions or machinery working. It was strangely silent though when Jarvis opened the door.

“Ah, Mister Barnes. So good to see you again,” Jarvis said, stepping aside to let Bucky in. “Master Stark is entertaining guests in the parlor. I’m sure he won’t mind another guest.”

“I’m uh, actually looking for Steve. Is he here?” Bucky asked.

“Indeed,” Jarvis said evenly. “He’s in the parlor with Master Stark.”

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Bucky said, “You don’t have to show me the way. I know it.”

“Of course, sir.” If Jarvis disapproved of the informality, he didn’t show it. Then again, Tony was rather familiar with his butler, so maybe Jarvis was used to it?

Bucky made his way through the house, Tony’s touch evident in nearly every corner, with inventions both small and large placed around the rooms. Sometimes they did something so simple, Bucky didn’t see the point, and other times they were a breakthrough – in either case, they were always fascinating.

The parlor was no different, mechanisms built into the wall to draw back the curtains on a timer, to set logs on the fire, to pull cool air through the room as needed and so much more. It never ceased to amaze Bucky, but today he was far too anxious to poke around looking to see what was new.

He stepped into the parlor and froze for the second time that day, seeing not only Tony and Steve but also Nat and Clint.

Blinking, eyes – as always – drawn to Clint, his whole body aching to cross over to the other man, Bucky was briefly shocked out of his unease, wondering why they were there.

“Bucky? Is everything okay? I thought you were working at the library today?” Steve asked, standing. Everything came rushing back.

“I am, I was, I mean, I think – “ Bucky blew out a breath and ran his good hand through his hair. “Saw someone I thought I recognized. But it can’t be him. It just… rattled me.”

Steve didn’t automatically reassure Bucky, but glanced to the side, to Clint and Nat and instantly, Bucky was on edge once more.

“Stevie? What’s going on?”

“There’s been sightings of a man - a man fitting the descriptions of the leader of the Hydra Gang - working his way through the vicinity,” Steve was saying slowly, watching Bucky carefully.

Bucky, for his part, stumbled over to a chair and let himself drop into it, staring numbly at the room. “It’s him,” he croaked. “I saw Pierce. I thought – I had to be mistaken.” He shuddered and closed his eyes. a hand touched his leg, gentle and warm and he looked up into the blue eyes of Clint Barton.

“We’re not letting him get away again,” Clint said, grim determination flicking over his face. There was a hard set to his jaw, a pain in his eyes, that made Bucky realize there was something deeper going on. This wasn’t just about Clint rescuing Bucky. This was about the mission, the reason that Clint had been in the right place at the right time to find Bucky and rescue him – however accidental that had been.

“Is that why you’re here? In town?” Bucky licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. There was a lead feeling in his stomach and he wasn’t sure what had put it there anymore – the arrival of Pierce, or the fact that Clint might have been coming back to town for reasons other than Bucky. “For him?”

Clint hesitated and Bucky wanted to sink into the plush but scarred armchair. “Among other things,” he finally said.

“If we can get back to business?” Natasha interrupted in her clipped accent. “Stark, we need supplies –“

“No,” Steve said, shaking his head. “The two of you are vigilantes. I can’t have you running anything in this town, no matter how good your intentions. If something goes wrong, _I’ll_ have to answer for it. I’ll go confront this man himself, see if he’s who we think he is and act accordingly.”

Bucky could _feel_ the panic attack coming on. “No! Steve, you can’t! You can’t do that without back up – he brought _men_ with him, at least - “

Steve made a sharp gesture. “Of course I’ll have backup, Buck, I’m not dumb.”

“Rumlow’s not backup,” Bucky growled, surging upwards.

“Rumlow is good at his job –“ Steve bit back.

“I don’t trust him!” Bucky shouted, fists clenching. He could hear the creaking of his left arm.

“You don’t trust _anyone_ anymore, Buck,” Steve said gently. “That’s no kind of barometer to be following.”

“Y’know, I think Bucky’s on to something. Trustworthy or not, Rumlow is only one man. That’ll be two against – how many?” Tony turned to Bucky.

“At least 10. Didn’t get a good look before I ducked out of sight. Could be more,” Bucky answered, deflating. At least Tony was on his side.

“Right. 2 against 10 – possibly more. Those aren’t good odds, Steve. If something goes wrong – “

Steve interrupted him. “It won’t. Now if you’ll all excuse me, I have a job to do.”

He strode out of the room without another word and Bucky stared after him helplessly for a moment before dropping back into the armchair and putting his head in his hands. “He’s a fucking idiot.”

Tony sighed. “But he’s _my_ idiot.” He blinked, cleared his throat and looked around the room. “Um…”

Bucky snorted and waved it off, Tony relaxing minutely. After a long few moments of silence, Bucky said, “Now what?”

“ _Now_ ,” Clint said, “Stark talks to me about my ammo and then we go rescue Steve.”

“You think this will go wrong?” Bucky said slowly.

Natasha and Clint looked at him, both of them unflinching.

“If it’s Pierce? Oh yeah, it’s going to go wrong,” Clint said grimly.

* * *

Clint had been right. A mere twenty minutes later, Bucky watching the dust settle over the main square with a sinking heart. Sam was going from person to person, checking for injuries. The glass of the bar and the general store had both been shattered by a handful of ill placed gun shots. One or two of Pierce’s entourage lay unmoving in the dirt, but Steve? Steve was gone, and Bucky didn’t know how it happened.

Steve was good, and so was Rumlow, as much as Bucky didn’t trust him. What had happened? No, he was being stupid. As many men as Pierce had with him, Bucky shouldn’t be surprised that even the Sherriff and the deputy had been overpowered. And yet – they were _gone._ Not dead or writhing in the dirt. Actually _gone._ And there was no way Steve would have just let them take him away like that.

They’d gotten there too late to see any of the action themselves, though Clint had quickly climbed a roof and aimed after the parting hoses. Natasha had sprung into motion too, throwing herself back onto back of her dainty little horse – faster than anything Bucky had seen outside of a train – and charging after the faint dust trail in the distance.

The new school teacher hurried over to them.

“Mr. Barnes! They’ve taken Steve!”

“Ms. Carter – did you see what happened?” Bucky turned to face her, his heart pounding.

“It was the deputy. He betrayed the Sherriff before Steve could even draw his gun, knocking him out from behind like a craven coward,” Peggy Carter spat out.

“I knew it!” Bucky hissed, hands clenching together once more. Clint climbed down off the roof, landing easily and gracefully into the dirt beside Bucky. He shouldered the odd looking crossbow and brushed dirt off his knees.

“Wait, if the Sherriff never got of a shot, then who took out Pierce’s men?” Clint gestured to the bodies in the road.

Carter looked at Clint and sniffed. “Well, if you think this town will idly stand by when one of our own is taken, then you don’t really know us, do you?”

Clint shrugged. “Can’t say as I do, ma’am. Really only know Bucky, here. Usually just come in for supplies, or passin’ through.”

Carters face softened. “You’re the one that brought Mr. Barnes home, aren’t you?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am?” Clint said, blinking down at her and blushing before looking at Bucky helplessly. “I mean, it wasn’t all me. My partner helped, of course.” Clint nodded over to the road out of town that Natasha had vanished on.

“You’re a good man, Mr. Barton. You and your partner both. I’m sure you’ll do the same again.” Carter said, not really making it a question but letting the full weight of her expectation fall on Clint who was looking more uneasy by the second.

“I’m coming,” Bucky said. Clint’s head shot up.

“What?” he blurted. “No! Of course you’re not coming- “

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Clint!” Bucky growled, all the anger from last night piling into his worry over Steve and fear of Pierce’s gang. “Steve is my best friend, the only family hereabouts I got left. I’m not letting him go through what _I_ did if I can help it, not when he’s got a goddamn soulmate waiting for him. Somebody around here should still have a chance at that.”

Bucky deflated and his voice went mournful. “He was going to talk to Stark tonight, about their bond. If Stark agreed, I’m sure they’d have taken the final step before morning. This was supposed to be a happy day for him – for them, and Pierce and his gang has ruined that.” Bucky’s voice broke. He scrubbed a hand down his face and took a shuddering breath. “I’m going and that’s final.”

There was a touch to his shoulder and he let his hand drop away from his face. Clint’s eyes were wide, sad and filled with the same pain Bucky constantly got glimpses of, but knew nothing more about. His mouth was pinched tight. Clint’s fingers, that had touched Bucky in so many ways over the years, was gripping him tight, almost painfully so. Bucky gazed into Clint’s eyes, determined to stand his ground, show how serious he was about this, how much he _needed_ to be going after Steve.

Finally, Clint sighed and nodded. “Fine.”

“Good,” Bucky said, relief flooding him. “Good, thank you.” Turning, Bucky made to stride off but he didn’t get too far before Clint had grasped his wrist and tugged him back around.

“Wait, where are you going? You can’t just declare you’re coming with me and then wander off in the opposite direction!”

“Of course not,” Bucky agreed. “But I need supplies, weapons, a horse. I’m not going to be a useless deadweight this time around. I’ve been practicing my aim. And we’re going to get Steve back.”

“Well,” Clint said. “That’s fair, but let me come with you. Those fancy duds won’t last on rough living. I’ll help you supply.”

“I’m not an idiot. I remember the journey back well enough,” Bucky countered.

“Do you?” Clint said, raising an eyebrow. Something in his tone said he didn’t think so, but he spread his hands wide, not challenging Bucky. “All right. Meet back here in ten, or I’m leaving without you.”

“You better fucking not,” Bucky growled.

“Then get that gorgeous ass of yours going, Buck,” Clint said. He jerked his head towards the clocktower. “Clocks’ tickin’.”

* * *

**CLINT**

Clint was checking over his saddlebags and running through everything in his head when Bucky led a near white horse into the town square. He’d pulled his hair back tightly, giving the illusion of a short cut, and Clint nearly whistled right there. Damn, any look was a good luck on Bucky. He’d changed, too, and Clint let his eyes slide up and down the outfit, trying _not_ to let how good Bucky looked in it distract him from assessing its durability.

The coat was long with splits to make it comfortable for riding. It was dark, with a lighter, marbled design, subtle, but there. It wasn’t leather, but it was thick and buttoned up close, with a dark fabric wrapped around his neck and tucking down into the v of the coat.

His breeches and boots looked less new, and closer to the style that Clint wore himself. He had a holster under his coat on his left and a bag slung over his shoulder. All in all, Clint was impressed.

“Do I pass muster?” Bucky asked, coming to a stop before Clint and draping his arm over the white horses’ withers.

“You’ll do,” Clint grunted in acknowledgement. Anything further would betray how much he still wanted Bucky, and they didn’t have time for that right now. He gave himself a hard, mental shake. No, he was giving up Bucky. Clint couldn’t keep holding him back. There was more to life than a broken down man bent on revenge and he couldn’t keep being selfish. Clint couldn’t take Bucky’s future from him.

Someday, Bucky would thank him. Might even go as far as to forgive him.

“We still don’t know where they’re going,” Bucky said

“Guess it’s a good thing Nat’s on top of that.”

“Yeah, but what good is that going to do us if we don’t know how far ahead of us they got? Nat may know where they are, but we don’t know where _she_ is,” Bucky interjected, a little less forcefully, now that Clint wasn’t talking about leaving him behind.

Clint grinned.

“Nat and I’ve got our tricks,” Clint said, the grin turning into a smirk. “Did you just think us pretty? Besides, we’ve been coming here for years. Nat’s the best tracker I know and Tony’s the best inventor in at least 30 counties. Trust me, we got ya covered.”

He swung himself up into the saddle, patting Lucky’s neck. “Ready boy? We got a job to do.” Behind him, he could hear Bucky pull himself into his saddle and Clint clucked his tongue at Lucky, giving him a gentle nudge with his heels. Lucky never needed much, always willing to do what Clint asked. He was a good horse. “C’mon, we’re burnin’ daylight.”

He heard the hoofbeats following him and he grinned. This wasn’t the way he wanted Bucky at his side, but Clint would take the moments that he could before it all broke down.

It was bound to, after all. Clint had already had and lost his soulmate – lost his whole fucking family - and all the other marks had faded and gone when he’d chosen all those years ago. He was far too bent on revenge, far too restless to settle down again.

But if he could, he thought it’d be with Bucky.

None of that mattered, of course, because what he wanted wasn’t important. He’d had his soulmate, and Bucky deserved to have that too. Clint never thought he’d fall in love with someone again, didn’t think it possible, but somehow he had, and leaving Bucky was going to tear his heart out again. But it needed to be done.

Clint scanned the ground as they rode, checking for Nat’s tell tale tracks. She was too good to leave anything behind she didn’t want followed, but her and Clint had worked a way out so that he could still follow her when needed. Something other people would overlook.

They were half an hour out when Bucky spoke up. “This is stupid.”

“You’re the one who wanted to come along,” Clint said gruffly, trying not to roll his eyes. “It’s not too late to back out.”

“I’m not backing out!” Bucky bit out.

“Then why are you complaining?”

“Because we’re doing exactly what I yelled at Steve for doing – two of us against who knows how many, and no backup!” Bucky blurted.

Clint shrugged. “Nat and I have gone up against worse. Remember when I rescued you? There were upwards of 30 people there, at least. Just two of us against all of them. I told you, Nat and I got tricks.”

They were quiet a few moments, the sound of hoofbeats, creaking leather and jangling metal filling the air.

“I don’t have any tricks,” Bucky said quietly. “Oh god, I’m going to mess this up, aren’t I?”

Nudging Lucky closer to Bucky, Clint leaned in to pat Bucky’s thigh, giving it a small squeeze. “Nah, we’ll figure it out. You’re right. I can’t keep you from going after Steve. Honestly, I’m surprised Stark isn’t here with us.”

Bucky suddenly stopped, the white horse snorting a little as Bucky stared at Clint with wide eyes as Clint pulled Lucky to a halt beside him.

“I didn’t tell him,” Bucky’s voice gone hoarse, his words choked. “Oh god, I didn’t… I was in such a rush that I never even – it didn’t cross my _mind._ I didn’t tell _anyone_ I was going, either.”

“Hey, hey,” Clint said, twisting in his saddle to grasp Bucky’s shoulders with both hands. “It’s okay. Everyone in town knew what was going on. Someone would have made sure to tell him. You’re worried about Steve. Tony would understand that.”

Bucky’s eyes looked haunted and he bit his lip, but finally he nodded, looking away and picking up his reins again. Clint let his hands fall away, a pang hitting him hard. He wished he could comfort Bucky more than this, than mere words, but he suspected nothing would be right until the Hydra Gang was gone and Steve was back home safe.

Clint got that.

He and Nat had made it their mission over the past 8 years to be a needle in the Hydra Gang’s side as much as possible, waiting for the day they could finally take out the ringleader, for the day the rest would scatter, leaderless and rudderless, to become mere annoyances rather than true threats.

They got moving again, and neither of them talked for a while after that. Clint’s mind whirling with everything about how this was a bad idea, bringing Bucky along. With all the ways this could go wrong. Bucky could get hurt. again. And this time it would be Clint’s fault. And…

Clint gave Bucky surreptitious glances as they rode. And how was he supposed to move on when he let him tag along?

Nat was going to _kill_ him for this lapse in judgement, Clint just knew it. but it was hard to deny Bucky _anything_.

Heat blazed down at them as they rode, each lost in their own thoughts and worries, Clint occasionally slowing their horses to check the trail for Nat’s disguised signs.

They caught up to Nat by midday.

She stood beside her horse, back against a tree, her goggles fitted over her face. Clint slowed Lucky to a walk, then stopped beside her, squinting off into the distance.

“What do you see?”

She tapped the side of the goggles, twisted a knob and hummed. “It’s definitely Pierce. Came to town with 9 men, left with 8 and Steve. Steve’s trussed up, slung over the back of a horse. Think they knocked him out or he’s playing dead.”

Bucky made a distressed sound and Nat pushed her goggles up off her face and turned to stare at Clint in disbelief. “You _didn’t!”_ she accused.

“What?” Clint asked defensively. Her eyes cut to Bucky and back at Clint with a glare. “I couldn’t just _leave_ him there!”

“He’s a civilian!” she hissed at Clint in Russian. “I can’t _believe_ you.” Glaring, she pushed off of the tree and crossed over to where Bucky still sat on his near white horse. She eyed him critically and Bucky squirmed, looking at Clint for support before firming up his chin and sitting ramrod straight, staring back defiantly.

Clint watched them and their odd staring contest anxiously. Finally, Nat stepped back and uncrossed her arms. “Fine. But you listen to us, do you understand?”

Bucky nodded. “I don’t want to get in the way, but I promise, I’ve learned some things since…” he swallowed. She looked at him with more understanding as he took a breath and continued. “I hoped never to have to do anything like this but I never could have predicted what happened to me. I wasn’t going to ever be that unprepared again.”

“Good. There may be some hope for you yet,” she said. Clint started to smile and she turned to him. “You, the jury’s out.”

“Awww, Nat, don’t be like that,” Clint said, not able to help the small whine that came through. She ignored him, mounting her horse and started moving. Bucky fell in behind her easily and Clint stared after them both. She turned and looked back at him, arching her eyebrow in a ‘well?’ that was all too clear. He cleared his throat and nudged Lucky forward again as Nat and Bucky started talking – or, more correctly, Nat started quizzing Bucky on his new found skills.

Bucky, for his part, answered easily enough and returned with a few questions of his own.

“Why aren’t we hitting them now if they’re that close? Why are we letting them get closer and closer to wherever their stronghold is? Don’t we want to stop them before they get that far? What’s the plan?”

“Because, there’s only 3 of us and 9 of them, if you count Pierce, and who knows how many who might be waiting for them somewhere along the way. And we will _not_ let Pierce slip through our fingers again,” Nat explained. “We will tail them and wait for nightfall. We’ll have the element of surprise.”

“What surprise? They’ve got to expect someone to be coming after them, right?” Bucky pushed.

“They’d be idiots not too, but I think they’re confident enough in their numbers and reputation not to expect any real resistance,” Nat said easily. “Besides, you boys will be hitting them from a distance while I sneak in to get Rogers out. The only way to improve our odds would be to have a distraction.”

Clint pushed up alongside Bucky and glanced past him at Nat, waggling his eyebrows at her. “I got my upgrades from Stark. I bet I can arrange that.”

* * *

**BUCKY**

Finally, an interminable time later, Nat held up a hand and slowed her horse, than stopped. Bucky and Clint followed suit. He squinted.

“I can’t see anything,” he protested.

“Trust me, Nat’s the best tracker. If she says they’re close, they’re close.”

“Sounds like they’re setting up camp for the night,” she said. “We need to keep out of sight so we don’t lose our element of surprise.”

Bucky nodded, then looked around. They wouldn’t be setting up camp. Once they hit the gangs camp and stole Steve away, they’d be getting the hell out of dodge. He blinked as a thought occurred to him. “Should we have brought another horse? Steve’s pretty big. We almost all of us are. Don’t think he can ride double with any of us, nor – “ he looked Nat’s slight horse, built for speed and perfect for Natasha – “do I think your horse can, even if he was the _only_ rider.”

“I plan to steal one of theirs,” she said evenly. “Cut the rest loose.” She swung down off her horse, looping the reins over the pommel.

“So what _is_ the plan, exactly?” Bucky asked. “You two are partners. Maybe you can read each other’s mind, but I’m in the dark here and I won’t be able to help if you don’t tell me what we’re doing.”

Clint nodded, kneeling down and grabbing up a stick. Everyone gathered around him as he drew out the plan in the dirt before they lost the light. The camp at the center, and three lines to surround it – one for each of them. “We’ll make them think attack is coming from these two sides, draw their attention away while Nat sneaks in to get Steve and anybody else they might be holding, loose the horses and get out.”

“If we’re drawing their fire, how do _we_ get away?” Bucky asked.

Clint patted the strap that held his bow. It was unlike anything Bucky had ever seen, all sleek lines and gears, and lovingly kept pristine. Even after all this time, Bucky still marveled at it. “I’ve got a few trick arrows. Once Nat gives the signal, we’ll know it’s safe to fire a bit more indiscriminately. You do that, while I set up a corral.”

“A corral?” Bucky asked dubiously. “I’m missing something.”

This time, Clint reached back for his quiver, then held up an arrow. The metal tip was shining, shaped differently than Clint’s other arrows. The metal was unrecognizable, the sheen of it different than the usual grade of metals Bucky had seen. The shaft was made of the same metal and – Bucky took the arrow – hollow? He handed it back with a quirked eyebrow.

“I have about a dozen of these. Shoot them at the right intervals –“ Clint stabbed down at the dirt. “I’m thinking here, here, here and here – “ His finger kept moving, making impressions in the dirt, “- and once I complete the circle, we’ll have a fence made of lightning.”

“ _Electricity?”_ Bucky asked, surprised. He’d heard of it, even seen demonstrations of it once or twice while still at the University, but it’d still been a new thing when he was out east and it definitely hadn’t made its way out here yet. “How?’

“Stark,” Clint answered with a grin. “We haven’t had a chance to test it, so we don’t know how strong it is, or if it’ll work, but I think most people will think twice about trying to walk through it. Long enough, at any rate, to allow us to get away.”

“That… might actually work,” Bucky acknowledged. They debated the finer points for a few minutes before they were all satisfied, and then Nat stood.

“You boys stay here. Stay out of sight. Once the sun goes down, we can get into position, but we won’t want to actually start until a few hours later, when we can be sure that most of them are asleep.”

Bucky nodded as she disappeared. He stood as well, leading his horse under a ridge they’d dismounted by.

The waiting was the worst part. At least when they were riding, they were riding towards Steve, they were _doing_ something. But this? This was hard. Bucky fidgeted and tried not to. He didn’t want Clint or Nat to regret bringing him along. But his nerves were all jitters, thinking about what was ahead and all the things that lay behind, that had led them there.

Clint sat down beside him after making sure the horses were all set – they were, they didn’t even need assistance from the humans – and pressed in close, like he’d forgotten that he was supposed to be drawing away from Bucky and Bucky was in no way going to remind him of that. It was giving him hope that, if Clint was struggling to maintain his distance, he didn’t really want to do that. He could have sat close, without touching Bucky, without comforting with touch. Instead, he was a line of heat that Bucky had missed and welcomed, even if it was silent.

Bucky leaned back. It felt good and they existed like that a good while before one of them broke the silence. It was Clint, of course, that did so. It amazed Bucky sometimes how verbose Clint could be at times.

“I know Steve's your best friend but you seem really invested in his love life.” 

That almost sounded like jealousy, but after last night, what right did Clint have to be jealous? Unless… it was another spark of hope. Still, Bucky protested.

“I'm not.” Bucky shifted to glare at him. “Look, he's practically my brother, and Stark’s been good to both of us. Guess I'm just a bit of a romantic. Can't help feeling that if I can help them be together it'll, I don't know, make up for what I've lost.”

“What do you mean, what you've lost?” Clint stared in bafflement. 

Bucky huffed out a breath and twisted his arm around. The left one, now all wood and metal, gears and springs hidden beneath his coat, muffling the always present sounds of clicks and whirs. “All my marks were here,” he said softly. “Never even got a chance to meet them, whoever they could be. I think that's why Pierce’s men cut it off. They wanted to make sure no one would try to claim me. People will do crazy things for the chance of a soulmate.”

Clint nodded slowly. “That, actually makes a scary sort of sense. Can't burn off a mark, or even cover it. But if the skin doesn't exist… and I've heard rumors, of brainwashing attempts. Failures, all, but if they had succeeded …”

Bucky's veins went cold. “You think they'll try to do that to Stevie?” 

“He won't be with them long enough for that, I promise you,” Clint said firmly.

“How do you two know so much about this gang anyway? What's your... why are you chasing them down?”

Clint looked away and Bucky saw his jaw working, his fists clench where they hung between his knees.

“You lost a chance at your soulmate; I watched mine die. My children... I don't even know if they're alive or dead but I'm gonna find them. I fought - god, did I fight - but I wasn’t nearly as good as I am now. I was left for dead, but Nat found me.”

Bucky couldn't help the sound of dismay that left him.

Clint flicked a look at him. “You had to have known my soulmate was gone. You've seen the silver…”

Silver, the color a soulmark turned when one of them was gone and the other had been left behind. Bucky had, of course. They'd gotten naked enough more than once for him to see, clear as day, the silver marks scarring Clint’s hip. He swallowed

“I did, but I hadn't realized how bad it must have been. Losing a soulmate – that’s bad enough, I hear. To lose them the way you did. I can't…” Bucky shuddered. “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well, don't be. I'm sorry enough for myself, no reason to add to it. Besides,” he knocked Bucky's shoulder, “It's been less these past few years. Nat saved me, gave me hope and gave me purpose. and uh, and coming to town and seeing you has been a highlight.” Clint looked at him almost shyly and Bucky felt his stomach twist and leap.

These past few years, Clint had also been a highlight. Bucky had spent many a month in anticipation of Clint’s next visit to town and then spent the days and – on rare occasions – weeks that Clint was in town to make the most of it.

If he sometimes dreamed that the other would stay behind with Bucky, that was something he’d held close to his chest. Clint hadn’t seemed to be a settle down sort of guy. Except, apparently, he was, at least once upon a time.

“Not enough of one,” Bucky muttered bitterly. “Not if you’re going off and never coming back. Not if you’re pushing me aside like I don’t even matter.”

“I told you, this is for your own good,” Clint said.

Bucky clenched his hands into fists and pushed away the anger, looking away from Cint. “She must have been something real special then.”

Clint sighed and his eyes went distant again. “She really was. A childhood sweetheart. Caught me skinny dipping once, and that’s how we knew.” He flashed Bucky one of his wicked grins. “Not like my mark was in a publicly decent place. And it was wonderful. Blissful, even. I had everything I could have wanted, and I didn’t want much.” His grin faded, his voice dropping. “We were happy. Losing Laura and the kids, I won't lie, it was a blow, but I've made my own happiness these past few years and that's something, yeah?”

“You ever think about the others? You know, your _other_ soulmates?” Bucky hated asking but something inside him, the same thing trying to hold the flutter inside his chest at bay, the one that preened at thinking he had had anything to do with Clint’s newfound happiness (even though he couldn’t have, if Cint were so easily giving him up), had the question popping out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Clint shook his head. “Nahhh… they've all long since moved on, found their own soulmates. No room for me anymore, all their possibility have faded from my skin.” 

“Still, it’s gotta sting. Love taken from you not once but several times.”

“At least I found mine,” Clint said. “No matter how painful it was in the end, I never regretted a moment. And I can’t miss a love I never had, right? So those others, they were just…” Clint shrugged, looking like he was struggling for the words. “Look, either way you look at it, it sucks. Pierce and his goons took our futures and our families from both of us.” Clint faced bucky suddenly, a wicked grin and a devious, almost dark glint in his eyes. “So we’re making our own future and our own families and we’re taking it all back. And if we burn the Hydra gang down in the process, I’m okay with that.”

“Y’know, I find that I am too,” Bucky said suddenly

Clint chuckled. “There ya go. Didn’t know you had it in you, Barnes.”

Bucky shrugged. “I wouldn't have either, if you’d asked me before the Hydra gang ever happened to me. If they’re gone, that's one less evil in the world and I’m more than okay with that.”

“Good. Now enough chatter, boys. It’s go time.” Nat said, popping up like a prairie dog, sudden and out of nowhere. After Bucky got his heart calmed, he joined Clint in scrambling to his feet and got moving.

Since there was nothing to set up, Bucky and Clint edged around the camp, Clint signaling for Bucky to stay when they reached some point that Bucky couldn’t see how it was any different than any other spot. But he nodded, settling into place. He lay on his stomach, hair pulled back as tightly as he could to keep it from obscuring his vision, and peered out over the ridge Clint had picked for him.

Below him, the camp spread out. One tent, probably for the gang’s leader – Pierce, of course. Bucky almost snorted because subtle, it was not. Spread around were sleeping rolls and a couple of small fires at intervals. He peered past the dying flames to look. The rolls were occupied, and only one or two people seemed to be standing guard.

Dammit, he couldn’t see where _Steve_ was. He cast around a bit – there was no way he wanted to risk hitting Steve – and finally found him, close to the center of the camp, behind one of the bigger fires in Bucky’s line of sight, making it hard for Bucky to pick him out beyond the flame. 

How the hell was Nat going to get to him without being stopped?

Swallowing, Bucky aimed the rifle Nat had given him, his pistol still in its holster as back up, and waited for Clint’s signal.

* * *

**CLINT**

When it started, it devolved into chaos so quick, it made Clint’s head spin. He hadn’t even finished circling around to his chosen spot before all hell broke loose. He never even had a _chance_ to signal Bucky to start shooting, but when it came to distractions…

Well…

It was pretty distracting, so there was that, at least.

The horrendous screeching noise that howled through the night had everyone scrambling out of their bedrolls and Clint hitting the ground. Above him, something wooshed past, a shape as large as a man gliding over him. He shuddered, unable to imagine what that could be. The camp was abuzz with activity, with shouts and movement. From the darkness, something clanked and clanged towards the camp, from the direction Bucky, Nat and Clint had come.

Clint shook his head and readied his bow. Knocking an arrow, he sent silent, deadly missile after silent deadly missile into the fray. Sharp sounds of gunfire filled his ears, mixing with the strange clanking that belonged to something he still couldn’t see.

Nat had been right – the gang had had more men out waiting for them, the camp teaming with more than Clint had thought there would be. Every arrow that dropped a man it seemed like three more took his place.

But Clint wasn’t the only one shooting and he could see others dropping around the camp. Bucky, he noted, was actually a really good shot. He’d been serious about practicing. Some shots had been impossible from either his or Bucky’s position though, and Clint caught another glimpse flying over the camp, another burst of gunfire – now that Clint was looking, he could see the brief, bright spark, far higher than any man could be – and another man hitting the ground with a cry.

No. It couldn’t be.

And then the metal suit stomped into view and he realized it _could._

Stark had followed them, and had brought the cavalry with them. Or… whatever you called backup that could _fly._

Now it was five against who knew how many, with technology these brutes had likely never seen.

Clint let loose another arrow. Another man fell.

And some they had.

Casting keen eyes over the camp, he finally spotted Natasha, already by Steve, already cutting him free. Then an arrow whizzed past his head, one that he _knew_ hadn’t been his, and Clint’s breath caught. Did the gang have a sharpshooter that happened to use his chosen weapon? Or was there a third group out there tonight, on their side. The Hydra Gang had pissed off a lot of people over the years.

Friend or foe? Had they missed or were they unknown allies?

Arrow after arrow flew past him, faster than even Clint could draw, felling Pierce’s bandits left and right – no, they weren’t faster, it was _two_ archers, he realized, that had come to their aid.

Relieved to know these unknown archers were on their side – or at least, not on Pierces’ – Clint let his shoulders relax, tracking as Nat got Steve out of the camp, stampeding the horses on the way, just as planned.

Clint switched arrows, then, and proceeded with part 2 of the plan, watching each arrow land precisely where he meant it to with a little satisfied smile. When the last one landed, a bright blue arch of tamed lightning circled the remaining camp. The bandits faltered and fell back, and suddenly silence reigned the night.

Despite the numbers in the camp that they hadn’t expected, Clint thought they’d fared pretty damn well. So well, in fact, that…

“Stand down and surrender,” a voice shouted. “And you’ll be allowed to live.”

“You’re lying!” someone snarled.

“What reason do we have to lie? We can gun you down where you stand, or you can lay down your arms and come peacefully to be judged,” the voice continued. Was that… Sam? The doctor? Holy hell, Clint thought. These guys really riled up folks if they’d pissed off a doctor enough to send him into a fight. “Your choice.”

The silence was heavy and long, and then – miracle of miracles – one by one, the gang laid down their weapons and raised their arms to the sky.

Was this the end of the scourge that had been Hydra?

Clint could barely believe it. After all this time…

They’d won?

* * *

**CLINT**

Turned out, the flying backup _had_ been Sam and the metal suit had been Tony, just as Clint had suspected. Who else would have been that crazy, after all? Clint collected Bucky on the way before meeting with the others and disabling the arrow fence he’d created, allowing them to go through and tie up each and every bandit that was left, kicking their weapons away and searching through the bodies for Pierce.

It soon became clear, though, that Pierce wasn’t among them.

Clint settled heavily on a nearby boulder as Tony ranted ahead of him.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t invite us to the rescue mission!” Tony said with a wave of his arms. Sam stood there, his own arms crossed over his chest, a pair of massive wings of metal and leather folded over his back.

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I was just so worried about Steve –“ Bucky said.

“And you think we _weren’t?”_ Sam asked with deceptive mildness.

“It’s okay Buck,” Steve said, patting Bucky on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort, like it had been Bucky that had just gone through this ordeal and not him. Clint just shook his head, watching everything unfold dazedly.

He wondered who the other archers had been. There were not many who chose the same weapon as Clint. He wondered why they hadn’t come down and made themselves known.

Bucky sat beside him and let out a long, low sigh. “God, that was a mess.”

Clint snorted. “Right?”

“I can’t believe Pierce got away,” Bucky said quietly. Clint didn’t say anything. “I’m sorry, Clint.”

“What for? We just took out a notorious gang with only five people. Maybe seven. Three of them inexperienced civilians. I’d be proud,” Clint said, his voice rough.

“Huh, I guess we did,” Bucky said, as if that thought hadn’t occurred to him. He stared out at all the trussed up bandits, those few folk who were still left standing. “But how are we going to transport them?”

“Good question,” Clint acknowledged. “We usually only take in one or two people at a time, at most. Never this many.”

“Eh, Steve’ll figure it out,” Bucky said, waving a hand around vaguely.

 _Steve_ , Clint noted, was doing anything _but_ figuring it out. Sam and Tony had swarmed him as soon as the last bandit had been hogtied, Tony now out of his suit, and both of them were talking at him earnestly, Steve’s face a rapid play of emotions, but it was too dark, even with the fires, for Clint to pinpoint.

And then they did something Clint didn’t need to read their faces to understand. The three of them took turns kissing, the gloves tugging off their hands as they reached for each other.

Clint stood. He couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t watch this private moment between the three of them, when all he could see what he’d lost, and what he was pushing away.

He made his way over to where their horses were tethered, out of sight of the camp, and ran his fingers over Lucky’s tan coat. Lucky whickered and turned his head to nuzzled at Clint’s hands.

Clint huffed a wet laugh and went to find the brush he had in his saddlebags before he started working on Lucky’s coat.

He was joined a short time later by Natasha, appearing out of thin air as if she hadn’t existed as more than a shadow before that moment. Maybe she had.

Without a word, she matched his movements as they worked side by side.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” Nat asked in Russian, brushing down her horse. 

“Tell who what?” Clint responded in kind after the briefest of hesitations. He knew full well what she was asking about.

Nat, of course, picked upon even that small hitch and gave him a look. “Bucky. And that you love him, dumbass.”

Clint resolutely stared at his own horse as he brushed Lucky’s coat. “He deserves better’n me.” It was the same old argument, hashed aloud with Nat and inside his own head more times than he could count, but it felt a little less true than normal.

Because before, he usually followed it up with a remark about soulmate marks, how Bucky still had his soulmate out there, somewhere. But it was different now, because Clint had learned from Bucky that he’d didn’t even have them anymore, and would never know if he met one - 

No, Bucky still had a chance, he could still find them. Removing a mark didn’t remove the potential. People had proved that before.

"He's got a soulmate out there, somewhere," Clint finally said, though he knew his voice lacked conviction.

Nat hummed. "Something changed, didn’t it? You’re usually a little faster on the draw than that with your arguments, Hawkeye."

Clint winced. “He’s got a soulmate," he whispered.

“But,” she pushed gently, repeating her question. “ _Something changed_. What is it?”

“Nothing. I’m selfish.” He dropped the brush and buried his face in Lucky's mane.

“Clint.”

“Argh. Hydra took his marks, okay? But that doesn’t mean he can’t find them, just that it’ll be a little harder. They could literally be anyone."

"Hmm… could even be you," she pointed out.

Clint snorted and Lucky shied away from him - not because he’d been startled, he was an incredibly laid-back horse. No, Clint could swear Lucky was giving him a disapproving look. Could horses do that? If so, he’d learned it from Nat, not Clint. 

“Mine are all gone. I outgrew their potential a long time ago and nobody gets new marks. It’s too late for me, not him. This isn’t going to happen.” 

She paused her brushing. “I’ve heard stories,” she said slowly. “That sometimes a mark _will_ bloom when _‘love has rooted in new ground’_.”

Clint shook his head. “It’s a fairytale, Nat. That doesn’t happen. What you're born with is what you get. Everyone knows that. I had my chance, and I don’t regret it. I loved and was loved back, even if I lost my other half in the end. She’s gone, and I gotta live with that, but at least I had it. Bucky can still find that, and it would be selfish of me to take that chance from him. I’m a broken down old man -"

“You’re _not_ old –“

“And he’s educated. He’s got prospects. I’d only be dragging him down.”

"You deserve to be happy."

"So does he," Clint whispered. He turned away from her, feeling the tears sting his eyes. He had to give up Bucky, right?

* * *

**BUCKY**

Bucky hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but here he was. He didn’t think Clint _or_ Nat knew how many languages he’d learned at the University. When had they ever had the chance to really talk about the little things, the odd things? Hell, Bucky didn’t think even _Steve_ knew. It just… wasn’t the typical thing to come up.

He wasn’t even sure they knew he was there. The scene between Sam, Steve and Tony had made Bucky sad, and he hadn’t wanted to ruin this special moment, so he’d turned away and headed off to see if he could find the horses or Clint.

He hadn’t expected to walk head first into a confession.

Clint _did_ care, he _did_ love Bucky. All the little things Bucky had been snagging on since Clint had tried to reject him was confirmed. But… Clint didn’t think he was good enough? That Bucky couldn’t be happy with him? Fuck, the happiest Bucky ever _felt_ was with Clint. He loved him, and he wasn’t afraid to admit that to himself.

How could he get Clint to admit it? Or accept that Bucky was here to stay? He was back to the same problem he had before this whole shit show with Pierce. He checked Alpine over, his eyes wandering over to Clint and Nat, trying not to appear obvious about it.

Suddenly, Nat turned, looked him straight in the eyes – and _nodded_ before walking off.

Shit.

Did she know she could understand them? Was that… was she giving her approval? She paused at his side, murmured, “Good luck,” before disappearing back towards the camp.

Well, it very much seemed like the answer to both those questions was yes.

Bucky’s heart pounded as Clint’s eyes followed Natasha’s departure, going wide as they fell on Bucky. With a last pat to Alpine’s neck, Bucky decided to just go for it. Clint had promised him, and Bucky was going to take him up on that promise before Clint disappeared.

Because if Clint disappeared from Bucky’s life, he was afraid he’d never see Clint again. And the threat of Clint being gone forever was enough to make his heart pound in fear, and his hands to shake.

Natasha’s overheard words had reminded Bucky of something he’d read once, something obscure, and a plan formed in his head. Putting everything he had into it, Bucky walked over to Clint slowly, holding his gaze. Clint didn’t move, just watched as Bucky got closer and closer, till they were a hands breath apart. He licked his lips. He was going to do this; he was going to take this chance.

What was there to lose? He already stood to lose Clint if Bucky didn’t risk everything. He settled his left hand on Clint’s hip, covering where Bucky new the old soulmate mark lay. The other, gloved as it always was, cupped Clint’s jaw, his thumb running along the line of Clint’s bottom lip.

Clint gasped and swayed closer. He wasn’t immune to Bucky any more than Bucky was immune to him. The longer this drew out, the harder it would be for Clint to say goodbye, and that was probably Bucky’s only advantage.

"You promised me a last hurrah," Bucky breathed, pressing close to Clint. *Anything I wanted…"

“Yes, yes, I did,” Clint agreed with a groan. “Anything, Bucky, whatever you want."

Bucky brushed his lips over Clint’s. "Then take off the gloves."

Clint’s eyes widened and he pulled back, staring back at Bucky with a mixture of longing and… something else. "Bucky. No, your soulmates-"

"You said we aren’t, so what are you afraid of? If you’re not my soulmate, then nothing’s going to happen. And If you are, then your argument is pointless,” Bucky said before gentling his voice and pulling Clint back towards him. “I wanna touch you, want you to touch me. If this is the last time for us…. Please give us both that."

“Yes, I’ll do it,” Clint choked out. His voice wobbled and his hands shook as he pulled the gloves off of his fingers. Bucky held on to Clint gently, afraid to let go, and used his teeth to pull the black glove off his right hand. He reached for Clint again, trailing naked fingers down Clint’s face, over rough stubble, for the first time, a thrill running through him that made his stomach swoop and his breathing hitch.

This had to work.

Slowly, Bucky let his fingers drift down Clint’s neck, pausing over the pulse point that throbbed under his fingertips before pushing on his way, over Clint’s collarbone, up over his shoulder, the damnable coat and shirt blocking Bucky’s effort to touch skin. His fingertips danced their way down Clint’s arm as Bucky nuzzled closer, letting his lips brush softly over that pulse point, his own heart pounding with every second closer he got to Clint’s now bare hand.

He hesitated at Clint’s wrist, heard choppy breath in his ear, and then Bucky slid his hand the last inch before his and Clint’s hand touched, another inch before their fingers grazed against each other, tangled together, and that electric thrill ratcheted higher, butterflies forming a colony in Bucky’s stomach.

Clint gasped, fingers clutching convulsively on Bucky’s, and Bucky shuddered and gasped into Clint’s neck as a simultaneous sensation of hot and cold enveloped their fingers, their hands, their wrists, circling up their forearms and –

A golden glow pulsed upwards -

“This… this isn’t possible…” Clint whispered, his voice a choking but hopeful thing in Bucky’s ear. Bucky pulled away far enough to look down at their joined hands. A flower lay on the back of his hand, a couple of vines twisting around and away from it, circling his wrist and disappearing under his coat. He turned their hands over to find the same golden glow giving way to the same mark and – he pulled their hands higher to see – the edges matched up perfectly.

_A mark will bloom…_

“I love you, Clint,” Bucky whispered, dragging Clint’s eyes back up to meet his once more. “I don’t care if we were soulmates or not. We still get a choice and I chose you.”

“You… you can’t just… how? This doesn’t _happen_ ,” Clint said. He sounded so lost, but he pressed closer to Bucky, hands gripping tight. Bucky leaned in to give him a long, slow kiss. When he pulled away to stare into dazed, wondering eyes, he chuckled giddily.

“The marks only show a potential,” Bucky said. “Your best matches. You still choose. You still have to grow to love each other, to work at it. And I love you. _You,_ Clint. I have for a while. And you, you did too, didn’t you? You were ready to sacrifice _everything_ for me, even your own happiness.”

Tears slowly tracked down Clint’s face, but he was nodding.

“Yes, yes, Bucky, I do. God help me, I _do_ love you and it was breaking my heart to walk away,” Clint said.

“And that’s why this worked,” Bucky whispered, capturing Clint’s lips in another kiss, tasting the salt of Clint’s tears on his tongue. It was welcomed, though, because they were tears of relief, tears of happiness.

Because Clint wasn’t walking away anymore, if the way he was surging into Bucky now was any indication.

* * *

**Epilogue**

They returned to town, a slow trip with several captured bandits to keep an eye on every step of the way, riding side by side and hand in hand. Bucky still looked at Clint in disbelief, afraid that he’d wake up any second and all of it had been a dream.

But then he’d take one look at Steve, riding between Tony – whose metal suit had been packed away on one of the other horses they’d rounded up after because it scared all the horses to death if Tony tried to walk alongside them in it– and Sam and realize it couldn’t be a dream. It couldn’t be, because in no world would he have ever thought of a three-way bond. Bucky hadn’t thought it possible. He’d never even _heard_ of it before.

Sam and Tony didn’t share marks, at all, their only point in common had been Steve who’d had a mark for each of them. They hadn’t but now they _did_ , the same way Clint and Bucky had. Bucky had not a single inkling that anything had been brewing there and he wondered if that was why Sam had pulled away from Steve?

Had Sam tried, in his own way, to do what Clint had done? To give up Steve so Steve wouldn’t have to choose between them? And now, now Steve hadn’t.

Bucky probably wouldn’t know and it was none of his business anyway. But if he and Clint could do what they’d done, then he wasn’t surprised such stubborn forces as Steve, Sam and Tony had been able to do the same.

It had been Sam that had gone to get Tony when Steve was taken. As soon as he’d done his job as the town doctor, he’d gone straight to Tony and told him what had happened. And then he’d put his foot down when Tony had declared he was going after Steve until he’d relented and brought Sam with him.

Pierce had gotten away, and Bucky held no illusions that Clint would stay on in town full time. He still wanted revenge, to find his kids. And Bucky got it.

And maybe it hadn’t been part of his life plan to gear up in more practical clothes and more weapons and hit the road to wander, living the life of a vigilante.

Maybe it wasn’t something he could ever have imagined, when once all he wanted was schooling, to learn everything he could for the sake of learning and impart that to young, new minds in turn.

But where Clint went, Bucky was going to follow, come hell or high water.

* * *

**Bonus Scene**

* * *

“How did you know it was going to work?” Clint asked, later, when they lay together in all their naked glory. For the first time, fully naked, the rough pads of their fingertips dancing over each bit of exposed skin.

And there was a lot of exposed skin.

“I didn’t,” Bucky admitted. “But I read something back at the University. It was this obscure theory that ran counter to everything else. Everyone thought the guy was a crackpot, but he was adamant it was true. That as long as there were real feelings, a soulmate bond could be forged between people who didn’t share marks. I heard you and Nat talking, you said something about fairy tales and I remembered something else.”

“What?” Clint asked, propping himself up on an elbow to look at Bucky properly.

“All fairy tales have a basis in truth,” Bucky murmured.

“That’s it? That’s all you had? You risked everything on those mere whispers of fragments?” Clint stared at him incredulously.

“You’re worth the risk. Always,” Bucky said.

Clint sighed, melting into him. “So are you, Bucky. So are you.”

* * *

**EXTRA BONUS SCENE**

* * *

“Lila?” Clint breathed as he, Nat and Bucky watched the two approaching figures.

“Daddy?” the teen carrying the old bow was dirty, bruised and bloody, as were they all, but behind her was the wreckage of the last of the Hydra Gang, Pierce lying prone on the floor. Who, exactly, had killed him, was impossible to tell. Several arrows from three different sources, a knife from Nat and a few well aimed shots from Bucky’s rifle had all hit Pierce at nearly the same time.

That was okay, they didn’t need to know who’d caused Pierce to draw his last breath. They’d all had cause to be responsible. It would be good enough to know he was gone, and that his brand of poison would no longer be on the land.

Clint stared at the young girl, so much older than he could remember, but still recognizable. She bit her lip and then stumbled, lurching forward. Clint caught her and wrapped her in his arms. “Lila! Thank god you’re alive. I’ve been looking for you so long!”

“I thought you were dead.” She was clinging to Clint, sobbing.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right. I’m not dead. I’m right here,” Clint soothed. “What about your brothers?”

“The whole kit and caboodle are all safe and sound back home,” said another voice. The other girl with her own bow sauntered closer and stuck out her gloved hand. “Hi, I’m Kate Bishop. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

**Author's Note:**

> [ Rebloggable Tumblr Post here](https://pherryt.tumblr.com/post/622236106655694849/love-in-defiance-marvel-a-steampunk-soulmates-au)


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